


Broken

by NoiraKai



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Bullying, But it's okay because there's three-way cuddling, He's literally like an internet troll but in real life, Like really he is a big fat jerk, M/M, Phobos is the roommate from hell, References to Abortion, References to Suicide, Slut Shaming, Threesome - M/M/M, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-16 13:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoiraKai/pseuds/NoiraKai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe if you break into enough pieces, it makes you invincible.</p><p>Deimos has had enough of Phobos's verbal abuse, and goes to Cain as a last resort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The door couldn't open fast enough. He had to get out of the room. Because he only had two options at that point, and the other was killing his roommate.

“Oh, are you on your way to do it now?" Phobos jeered behind him. "Good! I'll just start putting your personal effects in a box and making room for your REPLACEMENT!” His voice crescendoed into a shriek before it was shut away behind a vacuum seal.

Deimos hastened barefoot down the hall, hugging his arms around himself to shield against the cold, and all of the cold words that Phobos had spat at him. The bad part about coming to the end of his rope at one in the morning, was that he was only half-dressed. The good part, was that no one else would be in the corridor, to see him in nothing but a tank top, and black pants, and the old array of scars that covered his arms, and the freshly-wounded look in his eyes.

Deimos was a Fighter. Literally, a killer. Had gone into Colteron space and back, into hell and back. Had faced death numerous times, had been confined to the med bay numerous times. But Phobos had a way of cutting at him with words. Knew how to leave cuts that didn't heal into scars.

He had laughed (silently) at it at first, and had tolerated it for a long time. Hadn't realized how much it bothered him until it was almost too late. Such a slow, methodical deconstruction, Phobos had taken his patience apart bit by bit, until this time, Deimos suddenly didn't have any patience left. And as always, he couldn't talk back, couldn't defend himself, not with words. Couldn't kill his Navigator, not with words. So he had to just walk away.

Nothing under the sun could be more difficult for a Fighter to do. Luckily for Deimos, the sun was light years away... just another spec of light in the ever-dark sky.

He reached the elevator, and rushed inside even as he simultaneously realized he had nowhere to go. He knew where he _wanted_ to go, what he wanted more than anything... whose arms he wanted to be in, even when he _wasn't_ breaking into pieces. But going after that, would only lead to more brokenness.

Deimos pressed shaking fingers to his mouth, felt his heart pound in his chest with a whisper of courage, as he realized, he really couldn't break any more than he already had. And even if he did, he'd survived so far. Maybe he could survive breaking a little more. Maybe if you broke into enough pieces, it made you invincible.

He forced his hand away from his lips and slowly reached a bony finger out, to push the button that would take him to the officer's deck.

 

“Myshonok!” Cain –- Second Lieutenant Cain, exclaimed as soon as the door finally opened, revealing his hastily-clothed, shaggy-haired self. His eyes widened in annoyance and perhaps a bit of fear. Fear that his Navigator would suspect something, even though there was nothing to suspect. As if Abel were the one with the jealously problem. “You're not supposed to be up here,” Cain scolded in a low, grumbly voice.

 _Go ahead,_ Deimos thought, looking Cain in the eyes with a dare, _Send me away. It won't hurt this time. You can't hurt me anymore._

Cain narrowed his eyes, standing up a bit straighter, to loom over Deimos even more, as he tried to interpret Deimos's sudden display of courage. He had stood alongside Cain in the Fighters' Den long enough to recognize the movement. It was a warning: the _'you don't want to fight me'_ posture, like a snake flaring out its features as it sized you up, and decided how much venom to inject into your veins.

But then Abel appeared on his tip-toes behind Cain's shoulder, hair blindingly bright like an angel of mercy. “Deimos?” The skinny fighter just watched as Abel's look of dreary confusion melted into dreaded concern. “Are you alright?! Cain, let him in!”

Cain only sighed out of his nose in a huff as he turned sideways to let Deimos enter, still watching him with guarded distrust.

The room smelled nothing like he expected an officer's room to smell. It was actually a quite down-to-earth bouquet of cigarettes, and Cain's hair products, and starch... and sex.

“Come on, sit down over here,” Abel beckoned, and sat on his bed on one side of the room. It was clearly the less, or perhaps never-slept-in bed, so it served as an area for entertaining guests. Abel sleepily stretched in what may have been some of his Fighter's clothes, as Deimos sat beside him. Deimos couldn't really bring himself to care if he had interrupted anything, but the way that Cain sat heavy and contented onto the other bed told him that he hadn't.

Deimos just looked at the floor then, not having expected to make it into the room at all, so close now, and yet so far away from Cain. 

He could feel Abel's eyes on him, full of as much trepidation as urgency. “Is it... is it Phobos?” Abel finally asked quietly.

Deimos nodded slowly, closing his eyes in anticipation of whatever snide remark Cain might have about it. But luckily at the moment, he seemed more interested in getting the back of head to stop itching.

“Yeah, I was afraid of this,” Abel groaned. "I know how he can be." Deimos raised a shoulder on the side where Abel was sitting, certain that he couldn't possibly know.

“Phobos was my roommate, my first year at the Academy,” Abel said, voice heavy from the gravity of his memories from Earth.

Deimos jerked his head over to look at him then. Perhaps he did understand. And if he did, then Deimos couldn't help but pity him.

“It was... awful. I eventually had to move out. I got a room by myself for the rest of the semester.”

“Tch,” was Cain's only commentary from across the room. Deimos felt, rather than saw him roll his eyes in disgust of Navigator softness.

Abel shot him a quick glare and then turned his attention back to Deimos. “Can you... tell me some of the things he's done, or said to you?”

Wincing, Deimos turned his face away then. Deimos hadn't come here to talk. He'd come here for Cain, and had fully expected to walk away with nothing.

“Okay! That's okay,” Abel said quickly, appeasingly. “I know you don't like to talk.”

Deimos stopped himself from giving Abel an _'I fucking can't_ ' glare, realizing that Abel was Phobos's superior now, and was perhaps fishing for evidence to indict him.

“Tell you what. How about, I will tell you some of the things he said to me. And if they sound really familiar, you can just nod your head? How does that sound?”

Deimos glanced at Abel, nodding as he looked back at the floor.

“Okay,” the Navigator said with a sigh. "Well, first of all, he was incredibly bossy and critical. Always had to be the center of the universe. Always had to have his way. And any time I actually stood up for myself, he accused  _me_ of being an attention whore _._ In fact... any time that I tried to confront him about something, he would just deny it, or lie about it, and try to make me feel like somehow it was my fault. Or that I was just crazy for remembering things the way that I did."

Deimos nodded earnestly in surprise, only just putting some of the pieces together as Abel spoke.

"Geez. Navigators are so fucking complicated," Cain muttered. 

“He... said that I was a slut," Abel continued, a slight blush coming over his face. "That the only reason that I got straight A's in my classes -- the only reason that I got into the Academy at all -- was by performing sexual favors for the instructors. That it was a wonder I ever got any of my assignments done because I was sucking so much cock."

Deimos just shrugged, tilting his head from side to side, in a non-committal way. Phobos didn't have much room to say anything on that front, when he was constantly kicking Deimos out of the room to get it on with Porthos.

Meanwhile Cain's attention had clearly been seized, as his gaze shot intensely across the room, not really sure who to glare at when the perpetrator wasn't present.

“He said that everyone would be better off without me. That no one would miss me if I died, and that I would just die straight away if I ever did manage to pilot a ship. So I should just kill myself and save the Colterons the trouble.” With each word, Abel's voice became more and more angry and broken. 

Deimos cautiously but decisively nodded his head, still looking at the floor, afraid that if he moved too much, it might be obvious that he was still shaking with cold and adrenaline. Though the room did seem to get a few degrees warmer with the rage building in Cain's eyes.

“He said that –- well I don't know how much of this will apply to you, because you're not a clone –- but he said that...” Abel trailed off, taking in a deep breath to compose himself. “Well... he said that I wasn't really a clone. Because of my eyes. And that's kind of a big deal on Earth. A terrible insult," Abel explained, his voice getting smaller, his posture more apologetic. "He said that I was a bastard. That my mom had slept with 'colony trash' -- his words, not mine of course! -- and she'd gotten knocked up. And that she should have had an abortion instead of having me.”

Deimos nodded his head a bit more insistently, to distinguish it from the shudder that convulsed through his spine. Not for the same reasons, but Phobos had definitely insisted that Deimos should never have been born.

“All right. That's it!” Cain shot up off of the bed, growling the way he did when someone finally made the mistake of picking a fight with him after all. “I'm gonna go punch that little fucker's teeth in.”

“No!” Abel stood up too, arms reaching out to discourage him from leaving. “You stay here and take care of Deimos. _I'll_ take care of Phobos.”

“But Abel!” Cain whined, looking at Deimos with uncomfortable eyes.

Abel ignored him, turning his attention back to Deimos again. “Are you cold? Cain, give him a sweatshirt or something!”

“But Abel! You're the one that's good at... feelings! I'm the one that's good at fucking people up! That is how we work!” Cain argued, gesturing back and forth between himself and his other half.

“Well then, you could use some practice at being sympathetic. And he's your friend anyway,” Abel scolded, pacing around the room and throwing on pieces of his uniform. "And Phobos is my responsibility."

“What am I supposed to do with him?” Cain asked helplessly.

“Don't know.” Abel's voice was muffled as he pulled his jacket over his head. “What would you do if it were me?”

“I don't know. Snuggle you probably,” Cain pouted, dejectedly hanging his head.

Abel looked Cain straight in the eye with dead seriousness as he pulled the jacket down sharply to his waist, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Then snuggle him,” he said matter-of-factly.

“What?!” Cain practically yelped. Deimos just sat there on the bed, eyes darting between Abel and Cain, trying not to look too grateful to one, trying not to look too creepily interested to the other.

“Trust me, if Phobos was your Navigator, then you'd need snuggles, too,” Abel mused as he rushed towards the door. “You two better be snuggling when I get back!”

 

There was nothing but silence for a few moments after Abel was gone. Then Cain made a sudden movement, causing Deimos to instinctively flinch, sure that he was about to be hauled up and thrown of of the room. And maybe given a black eye and, a good lecture on how not to be a pussy, on his way out. But Cain just walked past where Deimos sat on the bed and over to a small dresser.

“Here,” Cain said, throwing a hooded sweatshirt across the room. “And you can put on these shorts.”

Deimos pulled the sweatshirt over his head, and then stood up to change into the soft cotton shorts, watching as Cain grabbed a pillow off of his bed and moved it over to the 'guest' bed. Cain lay on his back, only the slightest hint of annoyance in his body language, as Deimos stared down at him, paralyzed with disbelief. It was like a dream. But leave it to him, to dream about Cain being _lent out_ to cuddle with him.

“Well? Come on then,” Cain said impatiently, beckoning with a flick of his wrist for Deimos to join him under the covers, so they could get it over with.

As soon as the feeling returned to his body, Deimos climbed on to the bed, slipping under the covers and laying on his side, curled up under Cain's arm. The other man turned to face him, wrapping his other arm around Deimos, and pulling him a bit closer. 

He put his chin in the skinny Fighter's hair and inhaled deeply. “You smell good. You been stealing Phobos's girl shampoo?”

Deimos only answered with the most imperceptible smirk at the corner of his mouth.

“Did that little prick really say all those things?” Cain asked after a while, shaking Deimos slightly so he would know that this question wasn't optional.

Closing his eyes, Deimos nodded into Cain's shoulder, the response doubling as an excuse to nuzzle him.

“Hmm... well, what would I say to you, if you were Abel. Huh?” Cain pondered, looking down with an attempt at a comforting smile. Deimos didn't like the idea, but would tolerate being Abel-by-proxy if it meant a scrap of affection from Cain.

He poked a finger into Deimos's arm with each word, as he spelled out his ruling: “You, are not allowed, to care what that bastard thinks anymore. What _I_ think of you is what matters. I'm the boss.”

Deimos quirked up an eyebrow, to ask a pretty legitimate question.

“What?” Cain asked, trying to interpret the look on his face. “What do I think of you? Hmm...” There was grumbling from deep in Cain's throat as he mulled over the question. “Well, I think you smell good. That's a start..." he insisted. "And you are a good Fighter. And I like your hair -- That's all you're getting for now; don't get all needy on me, myshonok,” he said quickly.

Cain pulled him even closer then, hooking a foot in between Deimos's legs so they were tangled together. He couldn't really feel through his hair, but he could have sworn that Cain had pressed his lips to the top of his head in a gentle kiss. Or maybe he was just trying to smell Deimos's hair some more.

They lay there still for a long time. Deimos just reveled in the warmth of the comfy old sweatshirt and the heat of Cain's body. He let himself be lulled into sleepiness by the rhythm of Cain's breathing and the beating of his heart.

But then he was jolted awake again as it hit him: that this was really happening. That he was there, in a bed with Cain, and that Abel had given permission, and even ordered for it to happen. He couldn't help but let out a small snicker at how ridiculous it was.

“Hey,” Cain grunted, as if he knew exactly what Deimos was thinking. He moved his head down to look at the shorter Fighter. “You just shut up, alright?” he pleaded with a chuckle, the smile obvious in his voice.

He rubbed a hand up and down Deimos's back, and added quietly, “Trust me, if Abel was your Navigator, you'd be whipped, too.”

 

They had fallen asleep by the time Abel returned, a couple hours later. Deimos was only barely awakened by the sound of the door, in a deeper sleep than he'd had in quite a while. But then Cain shifted beside him, pulling him into consciousness.

They both lay there looking at each other with heavy eyelids, listening to Abel undress carefully, not knowing they were awake. 

"Did you take care of it?" Cain called out.

"Huh!" Abel startled. "Oh. Yeah. He won't be a problem anymore. Scoot over, Deimos," Abel suggested gently and nudged him to move more towards Cain. He climbed into the bed and snuggled up to Deimos, spooning him from behind.

"By the way," Abel added. "Phobos isn't your Navigator any more. You've been reassigned to Ethos. I hope that's okay."

Deimos just responded by moving more into Abel's chest, encouraging him to hold him tighter. Anyone would be better than Phobos, but Deimos and Ethos were already friends.

"You put Praxis with Phobos, then?!" Cain asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. He was alright with it... I think...?"

"Wow, remind me to never fuck with you! I'm not sure who got the worse punishment, Phobos or Praxis."

"Oh, that wasn't his punishment. I'll tell you about that in the morning," Abel gloated.

He could feel Cain's elbow move above him as reached over a hand to Abel, for some moment of tenderness that was kept secret from Deimos. He was so close to Cain, and still so far away. But sandwiched between the two of them, he was a lot better off than where he'd been.

"Stay?" Deimos rasped, feeling both of them startle at the breaking of his perpetual silence.

"Aw, Deimos, of course you can stay!" Abel said, caressing Deimos's side, sounding a bit brokenhearted that Deimos had to ask. "I just wish I'd had a hot guy or two to cuddle with me back at the Academy," he giggled.

"Are you calling me hot?" Cain sounded all too impressed with himself.

"Shush, Cain, this isn't about you," Abel scolded playfully.

Deimos gathered up the courage to say one last thing, knowing it would just stir up more snarkiness between the couple for his entertainment. "Abel's hot, too," he managed.

Abel giggled some more. "Thanks, Deimos! I'll be sure to put that you said that in my official report to Keeler," he said sarcastically. "He'll want to know why I went rogue, switching up teams in the middle of the night."

"Stop making moves on my girlfriend, myshonok," Cain mumbled sleepily, since that was clearly the more important issue.

 _"What did you call me?!"_ Abel said sternly. Deimos just smiled to himself, having gotten his intended result. 

"Nothing, baby, just go to sleep," Cain entoned, sounding annoyed that he had unwittingly started something.

"Maybe I need to get back out of bed and do some more reassigments!" Abel threatened light-heartedly. "Maybe I should have put _you_ with Phobos and had Deimos to myself!"

"Deimos," Cain said quietly, as if Abel wouldn't hear him two feet away. "He's gone mad with power. We have to do something... Pinch Abel for me? Please?"

Deimos shook his head insistently. As Cain had said, he knew better than to fuck with Abel now.

"Fine, I'll do it myself!" Cain groaned, straining to reach behind Deimos.

"OW! Hey!" 

"No more reassignments! Go to sleep..." Cain said grumpily.

"You pinched me," Abel accused poutily.

"You deserved it. Go to sleep."

"You called me a girl!"

"Don't make me come over there, and -- OW! Deimos!" Cain reeled back from him, clutching his arm where Deimos had pinched him.

"Aha! Serves you right --"

"Shh!" Deimos shushed them both loudly, having tired of his entertainment for the evening.

Then everything was silent, the three of them falling asleep in each others' arms. Lying there listening to them breathe, it almost felt something like belonging, Deimos thought. It almost felt something like being whole.


	2. Chapter 2

“Does that feel good?” Abel breathed in his ear.

Deimos nodded lazily, his eyes closed, his head lolling back as he was rocked by Abel's movements.

“Am I hurting you?”

He shook his head, leaning backwards into Abel to encourage him on.

“Do you want me to do it harder?” Abel whispered, as he continued firmly massaging Deimos's shoulders and upper back. Deimos just leaned back even more, boneless from how good it felt, trying not to get awkwardly aroused by Abel's oblivious dirty talk. At least, he thought it was oblivious... At least, he _assumed_ it would be awkward.

It felt so good, that for a moment he even forgot about the sleeping Fighter next to them... until Cain began to stir, moving slowly like some stone-chiseled statue come to life.

“Morning babe,” Abel murmured as Cain stretched himself awake.

“The fuck? Deimos is getting my morning massage?” Cain asked sleepily.

“He's our guest. So, yes he is,” Abel declared. “And he is also getting my morning foot rub.”

Cain's throat made a noise that was in between a whine and a growl.

“Come on, make yourself useful,” Abel entoned cheerily. Deimos looked over at Cain with innocent smugness, as if to say, _'well I guess we have to if Abel said so.'_

The Fighter peeled himself off the bed, muttering a curse in Russian, and dragging himself over to where Deimos was sitting in between Abel's legs. He sat hunched with his legs crossed at Deimos's feet and took one of them into his strong hands, kneading at the fleshy part under his toes.

“Mmmm....” Deimos hummed involuntarily from all the sensation, then quickly clapped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

Abel giggled. “It's okay. You're supposed to like it,” he said, as he began running fingers through Deimos's hair and massaging his scalp.

Deimos was afraid he was liking it a little too much, though, and stretched out between the other two men, he had no way to hide the tent forming in his borrowed shorts.

But no one said anything, so Deimos just relaxed again, enjoying all of the attention, and trying hard not to wish for more when he'd gone so long without. He watched Cain through heavy lids, as the other Fighter gently worked his thumbs in circles into his sole.

Cain looked up at him, and then down at his crotch, and then up at Abel, his eyebrows raising slightly with uncertainty. There seemed to be some silent conversation going on between the other two men over Deimos's shoulder.

Then two arms wrapped around his middle, and Abel rested his chin on his shoulder. “Do you want to, Deimos?” he said softly.

His eyes widened as he continued looking into Cain's eyes and his unreadable expression, even as Cain suggestively pulled a foot up and pressed his mouth to Deimos's ankle.

“Do you... want to be with us? It's okay if you don't, this is nice too,” Abel said, and kissed Deimos in the center of his back, sending a wave of sparks through his spine.

Eyes still locked with Cain's, he managed to give a tiny nod, overcompensating for not wanting to seem too eager. It was all that Cain required, however, to continue kissing up his smooth, bare leg.

“Good,” Abel said huskily into his ear, running his fingers over Deimos's bare arms and the slight indentations of his scars. “Because all I want to do right now, is sex you until you're happy.”

Abel reached out a hand then, palm down, to pull Cain up to meet them. He lifted Deimos's arms above his head, allowing Cain to remove his tank top and press his mouth to his nipple, swirling a tongue underneath. Meanwhile Abel planted kisses at the base of his neck, causing his backbone to writhe in pleasure when he hummed into his back. Then Abel's hand ran down his stomach and began massaging at his erection through his shorts, making him gasp.

Then suddenly Cain's face was in his face, with a look that would have passed for shy if Deimos didn't know better. But he recognized the look that Cain had, when he was suppressing his rebellious tendencies, and actually taking orders from someone else. No, Abel was the one leading now, oddly enough.

But Cain seemed content enough to go along with it, as he touched his lips to Deimos's almost painfully slow, letting the bottom lip drag across provocatively. So Deimos caught it with his teeth, letting his eyes brighten with wickedness as Cain's features hardened in surprise, and he curled his lip into a snarl and kissed Deimos again.

Running his fingers into Cain's hair, he pulled him closer, inviting a demanding tongue into his mouth, moaning as Abel continued to stroke him.

Cain pulled away then, raising himself up to meet Abel over Deimos's shoulder, and Abel raised up slightly too, so they could also share a kiss. Abel's own hard cock brushed against Deimos's back as he shifted, and subsequently moaned into Cain's mouth. Then Cain moved back down, scraping his teeth on the other Fighter's collarbone and teasing his navel with his tongue as he nudged both sets of legs further apart. The he moved down to finally pull Deimos's cock out of the cotton shorts.

Deimos gasped, leaning back to let Abel support all of his weight as Cain's mouth enveloped him, warm and soft and _good_. Abel just continued kissing him wherever he could reach, his neck, his back, his shoulders, his hair, and brushing his hands across Deimos's nipples.

Already his cock was swelling in Cain's mouth, though he was sucking slowly and teasing, occasionally flicking his tongue around the head. Then he licked a long stripe up the shaft and then went even further down to gently suck on Deimos's balls. Abel's hand took over on top, stroking up and down over the flared head of his cock.

“Uh!” Deimos let out a choked gasp, as he craned his neck around to look at Abel. Abel shifted to meet him, caressing his head in his hands so they could kiss. And then Cain's mouth was on him again, sucking more insistently now so Deimos could feel his tongue accentuate every movement, purring from low in his throat and nudging Deimos over the edge. Deimos moaned, never breaking the kiss with Abel, just holding on to him, as he shuddered quietly into Cain's mouth.

He took a few moments to catch his breath, still lazily kissing Abel, before he turned over and guided Abel down onto his back on the bed. He stayed on his hands and knees over him, pushing his ass up in the air and looking back at Cain expectantly.

He heard a quiet murmur of a “Fuck!” as Cain moved behind him and pulled his shorts off of his legs. Deimos worked at awkwardly getting Abel's shirt off of his body as Cain began squeezing at his asscheeks. Then Deimos's whole body stiffened with arousal, as one firm finger made its way down the length of the crevice, curious and demanding and promising all at once. He could barely concentrate on Abel underneath him as Cain's fingers pushed into him. He just layed his head onto Abel's chest, feeling the heat that radiated off of both of their skins, feeling both of their hearts pound with desire.

Deimos reached his hand down to stroke Abel's cock, mimicking the pace at which Cain was working him open with slicked fingers. Abel gasped and bit his lip as he closed his eyes. Then Deimos had to close his eyes too, as Cain's cock began to push his entrance open.

How long had he wanted this? He couldn't even remember, too lost in the feeling of Cain's cock filling him with something that wasn't quite pain and was quite too much pleasure, trying to concentrate on burning it into his memory, in case it never happened again. He pushed back at a rate he hoped wasn't too needy for Cain's liking, until Cain was all the way inside of him, twitching and causing him to shudder, his cock smacking up against Abel's stomach.

He just kept his eyes closed, silently gasping and began to move on Cain's cock, back and forth, sinking him in deep, wanting to feel all of him, wanting to drown in that delicious growl that Cain was making in his throat.

“Wait, stop,” came Abel's voice suddenly. He must have seen, Deimos realized. He must have seen it in his face. He must have figured it out. He opened his eyes slowly, expecting to see Abel looking angry and ready to stop the whole thing, and throw Deimos out of the room.

But instead Abel was looking at Cain. “Switch places with me,” Abel said softly.

“Uh, okay?” Cain acquiesced and pulled out of Deimos slowly before laying down on his back on the bed. Suddenly so empty and cold and lonely, Deimos desperately moved over on top of Cain, pressing into his warmth as Abel took the position behind. And he liked this arrangement a lot better, getting to look at Cain's face, looking all sweaty and wanting, and getting to kiss him deep and feel his hands on him as Abel pushed into him this time.

They did it that way for a little while, with Abel fucking him from behind while he leaned over Cain and stroked his cock, before Abel pulled out and took Cain's cock out of his hands, guiding it back up so that Deimos could sit up and ride him. Cain squeezed at his thighs and his ass, moving Deimos into the tempo at which he wanted to fuck him, mouth open and nostrils flaring, a devouring look in his eyes. Abel gently scratched Deimos's back with his fingernails and massaged his shoulders while he waited patiently for his turn.

Cain lifted himself up on his elbows as Abel pulled him out of Deimos and pushed in himself. He reached up and grabbed a fistful of Deimos's hair, pulling just enough to expose his neck so he could suck at the sensitive place right below his jaw. Deimos just closed his eyes, trying so hard not to make noise, as he moved into Abel's fluid thrusts from behind him and the endless pulses of pleasure they gave him.

He and Cain just looked at each other then, Deimos only able to allocate a tiny portion of his mind, to soaking in the deliciously lusty, slightly jealous look on Cain's face, as he watch him and Abel move together as one.

Abel pulled out then, to let Cain have another turn, but Deimos interrupted the process. He grabbed Cain's shoulder, shaking his head insistently. “Both,” he managed to make a fragile request with his already broken voice.

Cain didn't break eye contact with Deimos as he reached behind, snapping his fingers at Abel twice to get his attention, and making some sharp gesture that shook the mattress, and sent Abel off of the bed and onto the other side of the room. Yes, clearly Abel was the top when it came to romance, but Cain was the top when it came to fucking.

“You going to take _both_ of us, Myshonok?” Cain grinned with something that resembled pride. “You gunning for a promotion?”

Abel returned, crawling back onto the bed with a bottle of lube.

“Here, rest your knees while he gets you good and ready,” Cain said, bringing Deimos down to lay on top of him, supporting his weight. “You ever done this before?” he asked, to which Deimos just shook his head against Cain's chest. “Hmm. Abel's done it. With me and Encke. Standing up!” Cain bragged. “That's how he got _his_ promotion.”

“Shut up!” Abel whined. “That's not true... I mean. I did do it. But... ugh...” he faltered and went back to thoroughly preparing the three of them with the lube.

“Ready, sweetheart?” Cain asked, firmly stroking his own cock to make sure it was ready.

Deimos nodded his head frantically, again overcompensating for not really being sure at all, just knowing that doing this would be a way to forget about last night and impress Cain and include Abel all at the same time. He could feel himself blush as he shifted his legs to straddle Cain again.

Cain pushed back into him with a grunt, still holding Deimos to his chest and moving into him from underneath. Deimos's cock was pressed in between them, already painfully hard again from the thought of having both of them inside him. He tried to twist around to look at Abel, but Cain held him in place with strong arms and intense eyes.

Then Abel's soothing hands were on his back, moving down to massage the place where he and Cain were joined together, testing it with his fingers. And then the head of Abel's cock was stretching him open even further.

“mmmAAAHHHH!” Deimos gasped, and felt himself blush all over again, the radiating heat from his skin trapped by Cain's skin, so he felt like both of them would burn up if he took in any more. He clung onto Cain, breathing heavily into his shoulder, wrapping his arms around his neck as Abel slid in, a little bit at a time. Stretched to such delicious fullness, he couldn't even decide if it was too much or not enough.

Finally all the way inside, Abel leaned over Deimos's back and held him close. “Are you okay?” he breathed.

“I'm great!” Cain joked with a breathless chuckle.

“Not you. Deimos,” Abel groaned.

“Hey, look at me,” Cain murmured, pulling Deimos away from his neck to study his face wrecked with pleasure. “Yeah, he's good,” Cain said with a grin.

“Okay,” Abel panted, and started slowly moving in and out.

“Huh--” Another choked cry escaped from Deimos's throat, making him close his eyes to avoid looking at Cain. As he squeezed them shut, he realized his eyes were watering from the intensity of it all. Not even crying, for what was happening to him now eclipsed all emotion. It was just sheer overload of his senses, for he could think of nothing else. He shuddered as he felt calloused fingers brush across his forehead, to get his bangs out of his eyes.

“Don't hold back, baby. Let me hear you,” Cain said, soft, yet commanding all the same. He opened his eyes just as Cain noticed a tear, running down the side of Deimos's face, and pushed up to lick it away like a lion bathing his mate. Definitely not at all like a lion playing with a mouse.

“Ohhhhhhhnnnn...” Deimos let out a long moan as Cain's saliva cooled against his burning face, and Abel picked up the pace to something more needful.

“Yeah, that's it –- nnnnghhhh,” Cain interrupted himself with a groan, throwing his head back against the pillow and baring his teeth, as he reached down to jerk Deimos off with a relentless hand. “Come on, make some noise for me, baby.”

“Ahhh!” Deimos gasped and clung to Cain even tighter, hardly even able to comply.

“Oh... s-so good... I'm gonna!” Abel stammered behind him, picking up speed.

“Ahhh! Cain! Ahhhh...” Deimos cried out as he and Abel came almost simultaneously, Abel grunting and shuddering behind him and holding him tight, as waves of overwhelming pleasure rocked through him.

As soon as Abel pulled out of him, Cain grabbed Deimos by the arms and flipped him over onto his back, still inside him as he followed after and pinned Deimos onto the bed. He pulled Deimos's legs up and held his ankles together next to his own face as he started deeply thrusting into him with ease. Deimos incoherently watched, concentrating on pushing back into Cain's fucking, as Abel came around on his knees. He pulled Cain's face forward to kiss, Abel trying to be tender about it and Cain aspiring to be ravenous.

But soon Cain broke away, Abel still twisting fingers in his hair and holding his head as Cain panted. “Oh, fuck yeah. Oh, fuck. FUCK!” he roared, and then was intensely silent, as he came inside of Deimos with a few sharp thrusts, and then was still.

Abel moved off the bed again, coming back with a towel, wiping himself off and then handing it to Cain. Cain cleaned himself up and Deimos, too, still sitting there in between the other Fighter's legs. Then he covered Deimos's body with his own, pulling him into his arms and flipping them both over again, so that Deimos could lay on top of him, with his head on Cain's chest.

Abel lay down on his stomach on the side where Deimos was facing, smile still bright and cheerful even through his sated state. And not a hint of jealously. Deimos wondered at it, feeling a bit guilty. Shouldn't Abel feel jealous seeing Cain with someone else?

Or perhaps that was just a testament to how close the two of them were. Abel could be generous with Cain, because he knew he didn't have anything to fear. Perhaps Abel knew that it was others that should be jealous of him.

 

“So are you going to tell us about Phobos's punishment?” Cain asked some time later, his voice ringing in his chest below Deimos's ear.

“Mmm, it's for officers' ears only,” Abel said sleepily.

“Oh, come on,” Cain scoffed. “I think Deimos has earned the right to hear this. Don't you think so Deimos?”

Deimos just answered with a lazy smile that only Abel could see.

Abel stretched and sat up on the bed, crossing his legs and scooting up to the two Fighters.

“Oh alright... here goes...”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha, you don't even want to know what Cain had to do for his promotion. Mostly you don't because I don't think I could think of something that dirty.

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been discontinued. Thanks for reading though! :)


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